So Much for Vacation, Part Deux
OK, where was I? Oh yeah, in Washington DC, Our Nation’s Capital. Our little in-processing group had about 100 people who could speak Arabic and four that couldn’t. Guess which four are going to be in charge?
The new position – should I decide to accept it – will involve my working and living somewhere in Iraq, where I will handle administrative duties for linguists assigned to assist the Army in their many dealings with the indigenous peoples of that particular hot spot. Many of these linguists are US residents, the very folks who were doing the in-processing with me. Others will be hired off the streets in Iraq. In the event you are in the vicinity and are trying to tell the difference between the contracted linguist and the locals, the latter will be the ones without 401k’s.
Monday and Tuesday was security day, meaning we all had to present various documents and fill out tons of paperwork proving that we were who we said we were, and that we were trustworthy, loyal, kind, clean, courteous, helped little old ladies across the street and rescued cats from trees without feeding them to our dogs. It’s all part and parcel when dealing with government employment. Such careful checking is why we never have any spies in our government…well, hardly never.
On Wednesday, 28 of us were herded over to the medical clinic for physicals. As I was the first prospective site manager the training supervisor spotted on the Hyatt shuttle bus, I was named group leader. My job would be to make sure we left with 28 people and came back with the same amount. I immediately informed the group that I was coming back with 28 people and that I wasn’t really all that concerned that it be the same 28. I was responsible for a round number, no specifics. Savvy? You snooze, you lose.
Of course, I was much more responsible than I let on. I asked the receptionist at the clinic to make a copy of the sign-in sheet for me so that I could keep track of everyone. Then we all made the rounds, the first being drug-testing. To my extreme disappointment, it did not involve my getting to test different drugs to see if they were any good. Rather, the idea was to test me for drugs in my system. I’m sure my sample came back clean, especially since they didn’t let me test anything.
Then there was the EKG, where they slap stickers all over your torso, hook wires to the stickers, then watch squiggly lines print out on a machine. They never tell you what the lines mean. I figure they are kind of like life lines and if you happen to be the one hooked up to the contraption when it runs out of ink, you may want to start making arrangements, if you get my drift.
Hearing and vision tests followed, and all that managed to prove was that those two particular senses aren’t what they used to be, at least in my case. I like to think it is due to prolonged exposure to telephone and computer screens, rather than old age. I think they affected my memory also. Well, maybe that had something to do with the drug testing. The kind I used to do in college, anyway.
I hate to disappoint you, but as I’d had a prostate examination 7 months ago, I was told I was not required to repeat the experience. Sorry. Check back in 17 months or so.
Anyway, after the various ordeals, I hovered near the reception desk, checking names off my list as the linguists and other administrative personnel were handed their paperwork. In the process, I got to learn everybody’s names. Want to meet new people, make new friends quickly? Take a group of them to a clinic.
And best of all, I left the hotel with 28 people and I returned with 28 people. My task was complete.
They were all Chinese, but like I said, I wasn’t going to worry about details. I think I’m ready for work.
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